I am a Sin Kid
by Shoe2kill506th
Summary: "That's an interesting tattoo...", the doc said pointing at my right hand, "...Sin Kid...why did you get it?"


**A:N/ This is my take on one of the sin kids, from what very little I've read of them. I was inspired by Trillhouse's anthology (if you haven't read it yet, you should). I may or may not write another one. I'd have to do more research on them to get their characters right. This was mainly just to see if I could write a story from one characters point of view. I don't own the Loud House and Lupa is not my oc.**

"Okay...why don't we start by you telling me a little bit about yourself."

I'll never understand why shrinks feel the need to ask anyone that, if they have the file in their _goddamn_ hands. Fuck, I've been in an out of juvie since I was ten; If every therapist in Royal County didn't know who me and my siblings were by now, then they're either new in town, weren't paying attention the first time, or have short term memory loss. But I guess when you come across a case like me, you just _gotta_ hear it from the horse's mouth. I wasn't was gonna give it to her, though.

"We can start with why you are here if that would be easier.", she offered, when I didn't respond.

Hearing this cunt be social made me just wanna walk out of her dinky little county office and go light up somewhere...but that's kind of a hard to do when you're handcuffed to a chair and when orange is such an eye catcher to the boys in blue. The former I could, and was, working on.

"Lupa? Are you listening?"

I begrudgingly looked back up to her from the spot I was staring at on the silk green carpet floor , my right hand over my cuffed left. It was a nice spot; white, old looking, and out of place. Kinda like me. I was listening, but not by choice. Her thick latina accent was hard to ignore.

"You can sit here and remain silent the whole time if you wish, but I think it would be better spent if your-"

"Why did you take my case?"

"I'm sorry?"

"My case: why did you take it?" I repeated, turning the tables on her.

She adjusted her glasses and rested her hands in her lap. "Because I would like to help you. If you'll let me."

Ah. The _sincere _type. I chuckled. "Bullshit."

"Why do you say that?"

"Cause no "therapist" worth their salt is gonna pass up an opportunity to chat it up with a kid who's dad is also their uncle."

She took a deep breath, and maintained her neutral expression . "I will not lie. Your case is...different. However, I made a vow to reach out to anyone I see, regardless of their personal background."

Sincere and _sweet_. Gag.

About five minutes of her covering my trips in and out of the hall went by until her curiosity finally got the better of her. "I couldn't help but notice that tattoo", the doc said, pointing at my right hand, "..._Sin Kid..._why did you get it?"

Because _Abomination Kid _didn't have the same ring to it. At this point I was more than a little annoyed, and was no longer in the mood to hear someone else tell me my life story so I simply answered, "Because I wanted to."

"Yes, but why those words in particular? Do you not think it might draw a little attention to yourself?"

"It's a _tattoo_; it's supposed to draw attention."

"I meant more of the unwanted kind."

The "unwanted kind" was exactly the kind I wanted. If fuckers had the balls to call me "freak", "retard", and yes even "abomination", behind my back, I figured I might as well give an opening to the dumb bitches that _really_ wanted to test their luck. My sibs may have had their own reasons for getting theirs, but I had mine.

"Is that why you punched that Sweetwater girl? Because she said something to you about it? She's missing her front teeth now, you know."

She was one of those dumb bitches. I smiled. Heh. Aunt Lola would be proud.

"Look, I only ask because you don't come off as the kind of girl who's ashamed of who you are. That's a strength that you could use to help yourself and others."

She then looked down, seemingly lost in thought. "….who you are today, does not have to be who you are tomorrow. And your upbringing along with the way your parents conceived you was not your fault."

God help me. She was going with the _Good Will Hunting_ approach.

"_Are_ you ashamed of who you are?"

I sighed. I guess I did have a bit more respect for her than most of the quacks I've been put in a room with. At least she admitted that this meeting was more than just a pity party. She'd been real with me so I threw her a bone.

"...I'm ashamed of what my parents did to bring me into the world. I'm not ashamed of being in it." I told her, quietly.

She leaned forward in her chair, her expression turning hopeful, "Would you like to talk more about that?"

"No. I'm goin' for a smoke."

"You know very well that that is not-"

The clatter of the handcuffs hitting the floor made her stop mid sentence. My aunt Leni is dumber than a bag of hammers, but boy, did she ever teach me how to pick a lock. The doc didn't look like the type to fight back so I sat up and strolled over to the purse on her desk where I saw her stow a pack of Marlboro Reds when we first started. I'm more of a Camel girl myself, but they would do. A few seconds of rummaging through the front pocket, I found a bic lighter and lit up. One drag later and she was still looking at me like I'd just done something insane.

"See ya around, doc." I told her making my exit.

Yeah. I knew I was gonna get tackled by the pigs and hauled back to my cell the second I stepped out into the hallway. But that look of pure shock on Dr. Lopez's face did more for my mood in the span of five seconds than inhaling a cancer stick could do for me in ten.

My name is Lupa Loud. Daughter of Lincoln and Lucy Loud. And I am a Sin Kid.


End file.
